


The Lab Rat

by A_Professional_Amateur



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Computer is tired of Zim's shit, Gen, Hatred to pity to Respect, Like Walk of Doom slow, Mousehunt vibes, Rat hunt if you will, Reader's a drama queen., Slow Burn, Some racy humor and flirting., Wrong place Wrong time intensifies., Zim is a Drama queen, fear-activated therianthropy, genetic experiments, maybe smut, vengeance and pranks, we will see.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-17 14:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20622629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Professional_Amateur/pseuds/A_Professional_Amateur
Summary: A misunderstanding lands you strapped to a table facing down a crimson eyed alien with a particularly nasty genetic experiment in mind for you.The experiment doesnt end well for either of you.





	1. Snack Run of Doom

**Author's Note:**

> In which coincidences and paranoia end badly for you.
> 
> *Edited because I apparently couldn't make up my mind what tense I was writing in the first time, and also to bring you BoNuS cOnTeNt
> 
> (also that chapter I was hoping to have done has some delays. this is my compensation.)

You didn't understand it.   
  
You liked to think of yourself as a decent person. You paid your half of bills, did your half of the household chores. You even let your room mates use your Huflix account on the big living room TV.

_So why do my roommates hurt me so?_ you pondered to yourself as you stared balefully at the empty cupboard where once sat YOUR personal stash of snack cakes.

Sighing, you shut the door to spare yourself further motive for potential murder.

All day working in a cafe, and the one thing that had kept you going had been the anticipation of binging whatever Huflix had come out with recently, reading some comics, and aiding your mental healing with the comfort of empty calories. All that potential for such a wonderful night... crushed by the greed of your roommates. You felt your little heart beginning to crumble at the loss...

And then it occurred to you. You could not let your entire night be ruined by someone else. Not when a 20 minute walk to the gas station down the street would save it.

That would be admitting to these greedy monsters that you were defeated. 

_'' _No!!!!" you barked, steeling yourself. "This evening shall not be stopped! I shall have SNACKAGES!!!!" with the new vigor of determination, you spun on your heel and rushed out the front door. 

…

The walk to the gas station was peaceful... Too peaceful to be honest; you found yourself mentally rehearsing a firmly-worded lecture about roommate etiquette as a way to break up the boredom of the mostly deserted street.

By about the fifteenth reiteration of "I will no longer tolerate your feckless and sadistic attacks on my human dignity!" you came to the door of your beautiful snack haven. The florescent lights cast from its windows into the deep blue of the evening seemed almost celestial in your snack-deprived state.

Your angry internal rant fell out of your mind as you sprinted the last ten feet into the door, bursting into the wonderland of prepackaged ambrosia and commencing to empty entire shelves of their displays with the focus and zeal of a machine.

Completely unaware of the chaos about to bowl over your life. 

"Iiiiiiiiiiii NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKS!!!!!!" a high-pitched voice that sounded, almost... metallic? knocked you out of your tunnel vision as a knee-high green blur whirs knocked you sprawling onto your back, your armload of snacks ejected into the air. 

Stunned, you look in the direction the blur had gone, only to see shelves that had just been flowing with food, now barren as if their contents had been sucked into a black hole.

"Gir!" another voice- this one also high pitched but far more grating- calls out from the front of the store, drawing your attention to small pointy-bearded old man in a tan trench coat and beflowered hat, and -perhaps you smacked your head and didn't realize it- what seems like lime green tint to his skin.

"Gir! Get back here with my warpy shoes!!!!" he commands the air in the wake of whatever bowled you over.

“Nuuuuuh-uuuuh!!” that same eeerily high voice from before echoed from around the room. “Gotta catch me first!!!”

The old man growled in frustration as the voice broke into a reverberating, squealing cackle, his large piercing blue eyes frantically scanning the store... Until they land on you. A look of fear flashes across his face- reminding you you'd been staring- before he points at you, arm vibrating. "You again!!?"

Again???

You sit up as he takes a few steps towards you, his pointed finger now nearly poking your nose. "Incompetent Floorbeast!!! Did you really think the Amazingly Perceptive Zim wouldn't notice you Following me?!!"

"But I haven't-"You managed, before he cut you off again, gripping your shirt collar."Do not insult me with your transparent lies, Earth Filth!!" he snapped in your face, "You may have been able to fool me the first two times with your 'minding your own business' act, but no mundane Earth worm business would have led us to cross paths five times in one day!!"

Perhaps it was just the irritating nasally whine of his voice, but as your initial daze wore off, it finally occurs to you that the old guy must be delusional... or on drugs.  
You glance at the registers in hopes that an employee was seeing this- but alas, nobody there to witness this encounter...

Save, the (hopefully working) store cameras, it you were on your own.

Dammit.

Turning back to him, you desperately tried to summon everything you've ever learned about de-escalation, putting on your best stern face and firmly pushing him out of your bubble. "Look, man you've got it all wrong..."

He gasped in disbelief, drawing away as if you'd struck him with a gloved hand clenched at his chest. "An Irken Invader? Wrong? Never!!! Our instincts have been fine tuned over generations and our deductive and strategic abilities were the downfall of the entire Moodgie Quadrant!!" 

Your mouth moved as if to speak, but you couldn't quite make yourself respond to that, not even entirely certain those were all words. 

At your silence, he regained his former confident posture and a smug grin split his face revealing the strangest pink teeth you'd ever seen. "Unable to counter my impeccable logic and cover yourself, eh?" He chuckled mirthlessly. "Such satisfaction I will have torturing the truth out of you, filthy pig spy...”

With that, he produced an almost comically large syringe full of thick-looking opaque purple stuff from his jacket, brandishing it like a rapier and thrusting at you.

In a second of fear, you dropped all thoughts of de-escalation and blindly kicked your leg at him- his diminutive height placing your foot directly into his face. He collapsed from the force, and you hurdled over his crumpled form towards freedom.

Through his agonized wheezing, you could hear the man gasp out the words “GIR!!!... Tranq Dart!!"

"Yes master!" the response sounded like the metallic voice from before had finally hit puberty.

Before you could swivel your head around to locate the source, it was right in front of you, blocking the door of the gas station; A knee-high humanoid in a cartoonishly disproportionate lime green dog suit, one black-sleeved arm leveled at your face.

You didn't even have time to stop as as something pierced your shoulder with a sickening _Thwickk_ sound. It barely registered as you were focused on trying to avoid tripping on the Green Dogsuit that was...

no longer in front of you??

Your brain tried to register it as your body's inertia sent you reeling forward, barely catching yourself on your hands and knees.  
  
For a moment, you're frozen in pain and confusion, staring at the floor below you as your thoughts rallied for dominance.

_What the hell was that? Get up and RUN!!! This is a Crazy nightmare! That old guy's gonna kill me... Or Worse... MOVE IT!!!! Get up... come... on... get...up... get...._

Only too late did you register _a _numbness creeping through your limbs... your arms threatening to give out and let your face hit the checkered tile, which had started dancing in your vision.

As if it was some sort of weird simulation, you felt fingers curling into your hair as your face jerked up towards the old man's, your vision lagging slightly behind the motion.

He starts talking again (_Does he ever stop?!!)_ but it's muffled and distorted, so you only catch a few words here and there. "Rue the Day..." "Impending Doom 2." "Dib-Weasel!!" 

All you could really focus on was his face as it danced in and out of focus.

_Wow, I really fucked you up, didnt I? _You thought dispassionately as you took in his features. His hat was disheveled, the flower sticking out of it crushed. The eye where you'd kicked him was squinted, bruised, and appeared to be full of blood. 

_Heh. Serves you right. _

_ You notice, as his animated face finally fades from your sight, something you'd been too surprised by is outburst to observe the last time he'd had his face in yours... _

_He has no nose... _

And with that, you're gone; As it turns out, you would not have snackages.

…

_ **Clunk!** _

The impact of his forehead on the computer console shook Zim awake violently, eyes darting around before landing on you and remembering what he'd been doing with a sigh of exasperation. 

Monitoring the sleeping brain was an effective way to obtain insight on what a person knew. With subliminal messaging through words whispered to them or images projected directly into their optical nerve, one could manipulate the dreaming brain to focus on a particular subject. From there, Object association did all the work- All he had to do was wait for something incriminating to show up.  
  
But oh, this was taking SO LONG!!!! Even GIR had long since passed out from boredom.

He'd gone through every relevant image he could show you, from every place you just “happened” to be at the same time he was there, and as far as he could tell?  
Nothing.

The Drug store he'd raided for materials that morning? You were just filling a prescription.

The park where he was monitoring elderly courtship rituals? You were passing by on your way to work.

The cafe GIR had dragged him to for sugary caffeinated concoctions? You were barista-ing (a job that had you screaming manically in your sleep when it appeared in your dreams, as it happened.)

The street corner he nearly bowled you over on while he was being chased by the Dib worm? You were just walking home, exhausted and awaiting the nude snack feast you were planning.

Finally, the gas station where he had finally caught up with the warpy-shoed GIR. Where, apparently, you were just replacing what had been stolen from you by your housemates.  
  
Even showing you images of himself in the various disguises he'd been wearing throughout the day didn't illicit any results.... Except for the old man costume; that earned a full ten minutes of your dream self beating the snot out of him in ways that would impress a Vortian Torture lord. _*shudder*_

Zim sighed, pressing the palm of his hands into his sore eye, wondering how much of that violence you were capable of in real life considering how badly that one swift kick had hurt.

He turned from the display to your sleeping form, thrashing against your binds sleepily. Yes, a lot of anger held in there...

_A lot of potential, too_, it occurred to him. Certainly a keen Invader's mind like his could find a way to use you to his advantage.

There was that little _recipe _he'd been dying to try out on a human subject for some time now. Originally he was planning to use it on the Dib, but he supposed he could test it on you first. See if he could make any improvements. 

_Man I'm impressive,_ he thought groggily as he leaned back in his chair, finally allowing himself a rest. 


	2. The Greatest Plan Ever!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Zim have in store for poor reader?
> 
> Disastrous blunders of course, what else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before you get mad at me for the hiatus.... I re-wrote this chapter like fifteen times because I kept hating it. Also I've been kind of playing with way too many ideas- including another Invader zim fic (this one focused on the Tallest) so I've kind of been juggling. 
> 
> So let it be known from here on out, when I say i'll have another chapter up by a certain time… I'm most likely deluding myself on the euphoric tailwind of "holy crap I finally wrote something!!!" Yeah. sorry.

A sharp pricking on your temple was the first thing to nudge you from sleep. When your hand moved instinctively to investigate, the restraint that bit into the flesh yanked you the rest of the way out.  
  
_The fuck? _You opened your eyes and tried to sit up in a panic, only to be winded by another strap at your chest holding you firmly fixed in place. All trace of grogginess fell away as you took in your surroundings, desperate to get your bearings as panic took over.  
  
The spacious room was dimly lit, but you could make out the writhing mass of dingy cords and tubes that covered the low ceiling like an H.R. Giger painting in shades of pink and purple.  
  
To your left was a table of vials and beakers and tools you hoped not to learn the purpose for, all laid out and organized. To your right, an enormous screen hung on the wall, covered in lines of some sort of neon green lettering. A console rested beneath it, full of strange knobs and buttons and even a strange looking keyboard...  
  


In any other situation, you would have found this room gorgeously sci-fi.... but no room could be beautiful enough to make waking up tied to a table okay. You fought against your bonds to no avail, the straps cutting into you and eliciting breathy profanities from you.  
  
  
  
“Welcome back to the land of retched awakeness, floorbeast!,” A familiar shrill voice cut across the spacious room, stunning you out of your panic.  
  
Ughh, That voice would be grating even if you hadn't convinced yourself that everything to do with it had been a stupid, yet deliciously violent dream.  
  
Right now- as it sunk in that the little man from the night before wasn't a figment of your mind- it was just inhumane; Grating, nauseating, and inhumane.  
  
You glanced around, seeking out its source, Grunting in frustration as you exhaust every angle you can reach in your bonds, until finally the voice snaps “Down here!” and, craning your neck rather uncomfortably to look down past your feet, you finally lay eyes upon him.  
  
And _Holy shit._  
  
You would have never recognized the crimson-eyed creature leering at you now as the little man from the convenient store if not for that grating voice.  
  
...Well, the voice and the green skin that you'd dismissed as bad hygiene the night before... And the pink zipper-like teeth currently bared at you in an infuriating half-smirk. (Again, you'd dismissed them as bad hygiene)...And the lack of a nose. (Hey, people lose their noses in fires all the time!)  
…  
…  
…  
  


“What the fuck are you, a fucking gremlin?” you ask, too angry at having fallen for the retrospectively pathetic disguise of the night before to be properly scared of this creep who had you tied.  
  
“A what?” he blinked, blind-sighted by your accusation. “No??? No, I am not... whatever that is.... I am ZIM! The future lord and master of your planet!!”  
  
Oh, an alien. Well that was even better.   
  
“And you should be relieved, Floorbeast.”  
  
_Floorbeast? Oh please don't let that be a thing, _you pleaded in your head to whatever deity was listening.  
  
“'Relieved?'” You repeated, fear melting into agitation. “What, that your probe was too small to hurt?” Immediately, you realized you were in no position for snark, and your heart raced as you gauged his reaction.  
  
A blank stare and a cocked head... Either he wasn't expecting it or the joke went over his head. Either way, _Thank god, hes not killing me._  
  
He cleared his throat. “Anyway... You should feel relieved that you've been vindicated.”  
  
Your turn to dumbfoundedly cock your head (which made your current position even less comfortable).  
  
His grin got more smug, and he strutted to stand imposingly over your prone (and mercifully still clothed) body before obliging your unspoken request for elaboration.  
  
“I've scanned your dreams,” He reached a three-fingered, gloved hand to poke you in the temple. “All the secrets that pathetic human brain of yours could conceal- and found no evidence you were a spy.”  
  
  
It took a second to figure out something to say other than “I told you so.” Then it occurred to you. “So.... I'm free then?”  
  
In lieu of an answer, your captor simply threw his head back and cackled.  
  
And Cackled.  
  
And continued cackling...  
  
Then wheezed a few times.  
  
“Whoo,” he sighed, regaining his posture and taking on a solemn expression. “No.”  
  
“But-”  
  
“Silence!!” he cut you off. “I can't simply have you walk out of here. You've seen my glorious base. You've seen my glorious... me!!!” He placed his hands on his chest for emphasis. “But you were wise not to make an enemy of ZIM!! And so, though you must still be neutralized, you have earned yourself a more pleasant fate than would have befallen you otherwise....”  
  
With that, he reached to the table of tools at his side, picking up a large hypodermic needle full of pink fluid.  
  
“In fact, you may have earned the best fate that any human filth on this dirtball can hope for, once my plan is complete... A spot- however lowly- on the winning team.”  
  
Before you could respond, he jammed the needle deep into the flesh of your chest- eliciting a grunt from you as you were barely able to hold back the scream in your throat. You could feel the fluid spraying into your body- cold as it mixed with your warm blood.  
  
  
  
You felt it spread, seeming to grow colder instead of warming to your internal temperature. It was weird, but not unbearable.  
  
“The fuck did you do to me?!” you demanded after a moment trying to steel yourself.  
  
“Glad you asked. Be prepared to be amazed!!!”The little bastard closed his eyes in a shit-eating smirk (revealing a bruised ring around the left eye that you dearly wanted to copy on the other side) “Swimming through your slimy slime tubes right now are fudgillions of mircobots, which will infiltrate your cells and rewrite them using a carefully spliced DNA sample I've spent months perfecting.”  
  
You opened your mouth to try to respond, but he paid you no heed, still milking the opportunity you'd inadvertently given him to brag....  
  
“Programming the bots to activate and deactivate different genes via remote command from my PAK was mere smeet's play... but isolating the desired traits from all known life forms in the Irken database and combining them in such a way that no one species DNA will overthrow the others... that was a delicate work of genius and Blah... blah blah blahh...  
  
  
  
  
  
You didn't realize you were drifting a bit until he slammed his hand on the operating table to emphasise something.   
  
“And so much as one iota of foreign organic matter could taint the batch, having potentially disastrous effects...” (_Saywhat?) “_But fear not floorbeast; Your new master is nothing if not genius, and as astronomically slim as the chances are that this is not the most perfect genetic alteration you will ever undergo... Worst case scenario, you die. A worthy sacrifice I think...”  
  
“You know what?” you spat, now too jaded to worry about offending him. “I'll happily die now if I don't have to listen to you speak.”  
  
He narrowed his eyes at you, head raising haughtily. “Stupid Floorbeast. You cannot comprehend the honor you have been blessed with, I--- GIR!!! Get away from that!!!” he pointed beyond you to something on your other side. You swiveled to see what it was.  
  
The other little green guy from the night before- the dog suit wearing one- stood a few feet from you beside what looked like a small vat of the pink goo Zim had injected you with- the side clearly labelled “homogenized- do not break seal, GIR!!!”  
In one of “Gir's” tiny nubby paws, he held the lid to the vat limply at his side. In the other, he held... A rat.  
  
Yep, a live brown rat with a little round chunk taken out of its ear. It struggled and shrieked within his grasp.  
  
“What!?” the high pitched metallic voice chirped in confusion, ignoring the rat. “It's Orlando's birthday! **I promised him a swim!!!**” For emphasis, he began shaking poor “Orlando” around like a glow stick. The rat's terrified cries almost made you feel worse for it than yourself...  
  
“Gir! What have I told you about touching my experiments???” Zim scolded, approaching to loom over the small dog-thing. Somehow, the eyes of the suit lowered like a small child, the hands (with the still squealing Orlando) folded behind his back.  
  
“... But Kevin got to swim for his birthday!!!” Gir pleaded like a little kid. “He liked it so much he took a happy nap!!!” he indicated the pink fluid, at the bottom of which you now noticed a distinctly rat-sized dark blob. _Oh, puke. _  
  
Zim opened his mouth to yell more, and then froze, choking on whatever he was going to say. The apple green of his skin deemed to fade to a light sea foam green as his large eyes slowly turned, focusing on you with a look of intrigued horror.  
  
“What?” you spat. “What are you...”  
  
  
PAIN!!!  
  
Lots of pain coursing through you.  
  
  
Your body- which had been warming gradually ever since the initial chill of the shot- began to feel uncomfortably hot- metal slide on a sunny day hot. The flesh felt alive- all the muscles and sinews slithering around each other, contorting against your bones hard enough for them to break, but never actually breaking... they seemed to be bending,your limbs completely distorting with them. Tiny needling sensations began to push through the surface of your skin...  
  
The rush of sensation finally encased you in a stuffy hot darkness as you writhed- not noticing in the moment that you were writhing without the interference of restraints-  
  
You could feel your breaths getting shallower and shallower as your body slowly crushed itself.  
  
  
  
  
  


When the pain subsided and you could breathe again- it felt like hours but couldn't have been more than a minute- the smell of sweat choked your sense of smell. The Buzzing had become louder than before, and you could hear shuffling above and around you.  
  
_Where the hell am I now???_  
  
“Urrrr!” a slow, gravelly baritone echoed above you like thunder. “Eth A Raah! Eth A Raah!!”  
  
You rolled to your hands and knees as something heavy slammed onto the surface beside you, barley missing you. Instinctively you try to jump to your feet, only to fall back on all fours- surprisingly comfortably- and break into an unfamiliar, yet almost automatic gallop. You heard the big thing raise off the table and could just /feel/ it coming down towards you again, leaping to the side just in time.  
  
This time, you felt the ground shift under your feet, losing its solidity. A huge invisible hand grabbed you around your waist, clamping down on your waist.  
  
The smelly darkness lifted from around you, falling around you like a gigantic cloth. You stared at the scene- It was the room you were in before, but was it always so huge??  
  
Maybe, but you're pretty sure GIR wasn't that huge!!! The hand held you up to the level of his dog suit's big bulbous eyes. it still gripped you firmly, and you looked up to see the owner... None other than Zim.  
  
“Zim!!! the hell did you do to me???!!!” you shrieked, pounding and clawing at his hand with your two... tiny … hairy... paws?  
  
You blinked as you took this new detail into account. It finally occurred to you what he said earlier amid all his rambling.  
  
_Tainted batch._  
  
“Oh that just fucking figures!” you groan to yourself, huffing.  
  
Giant Zim turned to Giant Gir with a look of obvious displeasure.  
  
“Oooh you zee wahh you ih Urr?” He boomed.  
  
“I Doo” the dog suit responded, its normal metallic trill now a deep, but at least still decipherable, droning. The blank eyes conveyed no emotions as it returned the alien's gaze.  
It then looked back at you, it's voice lightening significantly. “ You wanna go for a SWIM!!!!???”  
  
_Oh HELL no!!! _Your fight or flight kicked in and you chomped down on the hand holding you, feeling your teeth cut through the cloth and glove covering it and drawing.... strangely viscous blood.  
  
The hand reflexively let you go, your limbs flailing as you free fell. You felt your whole body flatten as you hit the ground- but it hurt significantly less than you were expecting.  
  
Without wasting even a second, you dashed across the floor, scanning for anything resembling a way out. The walls and the tubes were mostly sealed, there wasn't even a hole you could see...  
  
“HEY you!!!” A new voice called from your right. You swiveled your head to just make out two big beady black eyes from under one of the pipes. “This way” the voice called again, and you swerved immediately- narrowly dodging an attempted grab by the dog suited one.  
  
You hurriedly squeezed into the surprisingly deep gap behind the tube, which fed up into a vertical column of ridged translucent violet.  
  
“Climb for your life!” the voice- it definitely sounded feminine, though gruff enough to be hard to tell- called down from what sounded like a good distance above you.  
  
You would have argued- you never were much of a climber- but then you heard the two large captors approaching the tube.  
  
So with a running leap, you clawed your way desperately up the side of the tube like the bottom was made of lava.  
  
  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translating Zim speak from what Ratty reader hears:
> 
> “Urrrr! Eth A Raah! Eth A Raah!!”= "Gir! Get the Rat! Get the Rat!"
> 
> “Oooh you zee wahh you ih Urr?” = "Do you see what you did, Gir?"
> 
> \---


	3. A New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get to know your rescuer a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Sorry for the long wait. Im hoping ill have more time to write since im work from home now. I have a lot of ideas for this.

The pounding of your heart lingered in your ears for several moments as you lie, exhausted, beside the Feet of your new companion. 

The tunnel had spilled you into a dark narrow horizontal space, where all your senses could make out was the cool dusty air and the panting breaths of its two new occupants. 

"Glad you could make it kid," your new friend huffed, still regaining their own breath from the rigorous vertical climb. "Not bad for a newb"

Too stunned to fully talk, you forced out a weak "huh?" 

" You were just a Baldo, yeah?" 

"Bah... What?" Your brain and mouth struggled to process. 

"Baldo... You know. Big, tall, no fur except on the heads?"

Human. 

You were just a human. The fever dream that had been the last few minutes snapped back into place among your scrabbled thoughts. 

That Guy- No that thing- Zim, had injected you with some kind of pink glowing crap... And now you were...

What were you?

You sat up to examine your hands... The clawed fingers.... The thick brown fur running down your arms to the wrists. The Coarse-haired tail that curled around you and rested below them. 

Curiously, you reached up to run them along the sides of your now very narrow and fuzzy face, splaying them over your huge Satellite dish ears. 

Holy shit. 

You eyed your new companion. In the dark, you could see the outline of their head. Two large ears jutted out on either side, one missing a large round chunk. 

That must have been the other rat, the one Gir was holding before you started changing. What had he called them?

"Or- Orlando???" you asked, unsure of your memory. 

You could practically feel your friend flinch at the name. 

"No. That's the name the GIR gave me." The name "Gir" came out as a disgusted snarl. 

Understandable reaction, you thought.  
Backpedalling, you asked in a much softer voice. "Alright. How do you like to be referred to?"

"Thorn," your friend murmured. "Sorry for snapping. How could you know what becomes of those caught and named by the GIR: The ZIM is the one who usually torments Baldos."

You nod. "I'm guessing they end up like our friend in the vat down there?" 

The thick silence you get in reply tells you that might have been insensitive. "I'm sorry. Were they close to you?"

"We were littermates. His name was Stem." Thorn gave a small chuckle. "We were born under a rosebush." 

Despite yourself, you gave a small grin in the dark at that. That was adorable. 

A beat of silence fell before your friend sighed. 

And then they lunged, pinning you to a wall before you could register, leaving you stunned. Their clawed hands held your ribs down firmly but not so hard as to crush you. They lowered their face to yours. 

"Listen," their voice dropped to a stern half-growl. "I helped you because you helped me. You're still a Baldo inside. Baldos kill us. And you may not be half as dangerous now as you were before, but if anyone in the colony finds out you were a Baldo, theyll kill you. And probably me too for helping you. So stay where I can see you, keep quiet and try to blend in. Also...."

Their weight shifted as they rolled onto your side, pinning you fully. They commenced to furiously licking at your face and neck, pausing to sniff at the air periodically. Any attempts you made to move were stopped by a growl or hard nip to the shoulder. 

Finally they stopped. With a few final sniffs, Thorn made a small squeak and lept off of you, leaving you feeling violated. 

"There, Now you smell like a rat," They chirruped as if they hadnt just assaulted you. 

"Do rats not have a concept of consent?" You demanded. 

"Co-What?" They repeated. 

That answers that. 

"Nevermind" you sigh. 

"Alright... Lets go before he takes apart the pipe," They comanded as they skittered off down the large dark corridor. 

You stumbled to your feet to hurriedly catch up. 

\-----

One winding maze of vertically and horizontally sloped pipes later, the two of you came to a large, dimly lit cavern. It was warm and stank of too many living bodies. 

Immediately, you found yourselves swarmed and prodded by furry, sniffing noses, and high pitched whispers. 

"Thorn has a Newby?" "Who Are You?" "Fite Me Newb!" "Friend?" "Pecking Order."

"BACK OFF!!!" Thorn Screeched, silencing the voices as they roughly shoved their way between you and the others. "My Newbie! MINE!!!!"

"Thorn," another voice cut across the crowd, heads turning in its direction. The bodies that had swarmed you slowly dispersed, making way for a particularly large mound of fur with. A web of gashes running across its bulky head. 

The big one approached, front legs stretching upwards in order to tower over you and your friend. Thorn faced him, lifting up onto her back legs to match his eye level. 

"Root," They adressed the goliath evenly. This only seemed to raise its ire more as it brandished its sharp incisors. "Unless you desire more Decorations on that ugly face of yours, Boy, you will not touch My Broodmate."

Como Say what??? You had to fight back the urge to vocalize your protest. 

Root seemed to consider the smaller rat's words a moment. He looked at you, then turned back to Thorn. After a tense moment, they sighed. 

"Very well," He sighed, turning to you. "If my eldest littermate has taken you as a Broodmate, then you must be strong enough to fit in here. Welcome."

With that, the rest of the pack dispersed, leaving you, Thorn and Root alone.  
All except for one.

They were small and hunched, stepping slowly and cautiously towards your companion. 

"Thorn?" They all but whimpered. 

Thorns head swiveled, and their entire demeanor seemed to melt at the sight of the other. "Leaf," they said, voice nearly as soft as the newcomers had been. "I'm sorry. I was too late to save Stem." 

Leaf's ears flattened, their entire head drooping, a cry of "No...." 

Root's Enormous form also sagged.  
"The GIR?" He growled the name, already knowing he was right. 

"Yes," Thorn confirmed "And he would have ended me as well... If not for them"

All three sets of shiny black eyes fixed onto you. 

"Then I guess we owe you a debt of gratitude," Root... Chuckled? (Could rats chuckle?) "If we'd lost Thorn, the whole Brood would be in Chaos."

You blinked, your face the rodent equivalent of deer in the headlights, but it went unnoticed as Thorn spoke up. 

"Well start the memorial in a day or so. In the meantime, my Broodmate and I are exhausted and wish to retire... Alone." 

Yet again, you had to physically hold back your protest at that word. At least till you were alone with Thorn, then you could set that record straight.... Or run away and be on your own. 

Either way, there was no way in hell you were "mating" with a fucking rat. Not even one who saved your life. 

\--------

The moment the two of you had left the main cavern to a small side chamber, Thorn gave an immense sigh and plopped down onto their side. 

You grappled through your racing mind for a good starting point. 

"So.... Um.... Broodmates?" You grimaced. "That doesnt mean what it sounds like, does it?" 

"If it sounds like it means 'designated brooding partner' then yes. Yes it does." Thorn snickered. "Perfect cover to make them leave you alone." 

Relief rushed into you. "So you're not..."

"Gonna try and fuck you?" Thry finished for you. (Wow. Ok so rats understand swearwords.) They shuddered. "Gross. Absolutely not. Like I said, You're still a Baldo at heart. Besides. I prefer my partners to do the pursuing." 

"So why...."

"Why bring you into my nest to begin with?" 

You nodded your heads vigorously. 

"Whats wrong with your neck?" They demanded in alarm, sitting up sniff at you. 

Right. Rats dont nod. "Oh, yeah... Thats a hum- er, baldo signal. It means yes. You were saying?"

Satisfied, Thorn reclined again. "Alright... Just maybe dont do that in front of them eh? Theyll think you're sick and shun you."

You almost nod in agreement before realizing your mistake. "Right." You say instead. 

"Anyway," they continued. "I brought you here because you were a baldo. You kind of understand how.... Baldo things work, right?  
How the tools work?"

"Uhhhhhh.... Well, it depends on the tools," you answered honestly. "I'm no professional, but I have done some small repairs around the house..."

"Could you help us fuck up his machines?"


End file.
